


Who's Harry?

by Scouts_Mockingbird



Series: The Mark and Mazz AU [1]
Category: Pump Up the Volume (1990)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:06:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scouts_Mockingbird/pseuds/Scouts_Mockingbird
Summary: Mark gets caught in a lie because Mazz is too damn nice.





	Who's Harry?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [penguinpatrolerarmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinpatrolerarmy/gifts).



Mark slammed his locker closed, pulling away to dive into the crowd, ready to head home. Before he had the chance to breach the seamless wall of people flowing towards the exits, Mazz gripped his collar holding him back.

“Hey! Do you want to come to the field to listen to Harry’s broadcast tonight? You said you wanted to do it sometime.”

Mark’s heart sank. He’d been hoping that Mazz would forget that he’d said that. He should never have said it in the first place, but saying anything was hard enough, saying the right thing was nearly impossible.

And he hated lying to his best friend, one of his only friends. “I… I can’t. My parents don’t want me to go out that late.”

Mazz’s expressive face fell. “Oh. Okay.”

You should tell him, The little voice in the back of Mark’s head whispered. It had been growing louder recently, but fear always stopped Mark before he managed to tell Mazz the truth.

He was afraid that their friendship would change if Mazz knew the truth, and Mark didn’t have enough friends to risk one.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said lamely. The word died towards the end, a sign that Mark had reached his speaking limit and might not be able to form words.

As always, Mazz noticed. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find another time. Maybe your parents will go out of town sometime and you can go then.” He bumped gently against Mark’s shoulder in a surprisingly encouraging gesture.

Forcing a smile, Mark nodded. “Yeah. That would be cool.” He sounded like he was being strangled.

“Do you want a ride home? It’s pretty hot for walking.” Mazz didn’t bother waiting for an answer, which was good, because he wouldn’t have gotten one. He grabbed Mark’s arm and started steering him towards the parking lot where he’d left his car.

Walking through crowds was always easier with Mazz. Though he wasn’t exactly tall, people always stepped out of the way for him, some because of his rather intimidating air, and others because they knew him and knew better than to get in his way when he was in a hurry.

The drive home wasn’t exactly quiet– Mazz was almost never quiet, even when he wasn’t talking– but Mark wasn’t expected to participate in it.

“Oh, shit,” Mark muttered, remembering that he hadn’t picked up his mail for the broadcast tonight.

Mazz gave him a strange look, and Mark realized those were the first words he’d said since they’d left the school. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. My, um, mom said she wanted me to get some… stamps on my way home. Do you mind stopping at the post office?” Yet more lying to his best friend.

“Sure, no problem.” Mazz’s easy agreement made Mark feel even worse for lying to him.

When they pulled into the small parking lot, Mark jumped out of the car. “I’ll be out in a second, you don’t have to come in with me!”

“Okay…”

Mark ran inside, knowing that Mazz was giving him the same searching look he had before.

There were a couple letters in his box, thankfully making the trip worth it, but when he walked back outside with them tucked into his pocket, Mazz was still looking confused.

“Where are they?”

Panicked, Mark replied, “Where are what?”

“The stamps?”

Shit. Fuck. “Um… They were out.”

“The post office was out of stamps? Weird. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

God, why did he have to be so damn nice? “No, thanks. I’ll just tell her what happened.”

It was a relief to pull into his driveway, and Mark practically dove out of the car, waving a quick goodbye to Mazz, he walked inside and hid in the basement.

The house was built into a hill, which meant that the basement– which had become Mark’s other bedroom for all intents and purposes– had a door that opened into the small backyard. He considered leaving again, but wandering around the neighborhood in the heat wasn’t anymore appealing than waiting around here, bored.

He couldn’t wait for ten, already words churned in his head, ready to become a broadcast, spread from radio to radio, until his words were on the lips of every student at Hubert Humphrey High.

The confusing day and his frustration at having to lie to Mazz could only be purged when he had his microphone.

Homework and yet another dull, small talk-filled dinner with his parents passed so slow Mark was beginning to think he’d died and ended up in hell.

“Probably better than fucking Arizona,” He muttered, returning to his basement and beginning the process of setting up the radio.

Before he started “Everybody Knows” and turned on his ‘On Air’ sign, he crossed the room and pulled the curtains over the back door. This was something he preferred to do without an audience.

“Do you ever feel like you lie to every goddamn person you talk to?” Mark said, holding the microphone a little too close to his mouth and enjoying the crackle of his voice disguiser.

“I swear, every time I talk to anyone, I end up lying. Sometimes it’s stupid shit; ‘Hey, want to meet up to work on that project for class?’ Sorry, I can’t my grandma’s in town.’ Or when teachers ask how you are and you say ‘good’ because you know they don’t give a fuck. God, I’m sick of that.”

“Every fucking time I try to talk to someone, I gotta lie about something. It’s fucking exhausting.” Mark felt himself getting into his groove, slipping into Harry’s personality like an old sweater that fit perfectly.

He took a deep breath, ready to launch back into his rant, when he heard the creak of the curtain opening and a sudden, loud thud as something heavy crashed to the floor.

“SORRY FOLKS TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES BACK IN A SECOND.” Mark flipped the switch, playing Leonard Cohen’s ‘I’m Your Man’, just to have something on the air while he dealt with Mazz.

Mazz, who had just walked into his room carrying a radio.

Mazz, who had immediately dropped said radio when he’d seen what Mark was doing.

Mazz, who was now staring in speechless shock. “I… You… Are… What?”

“Hi, Mazz, uh… what’s up?”

“You…” Mazz paused, looking at the still glowing ‘On Air’ sign. “I… You said you were grounded and couldn’t come listen to the broadcast with the crowd, so I brought the broadcast to you. I guess I didn’t have to.”

It was such a nice gesture. The kind of things Mark would never have thought of in a million years, but that occurred to Mazz as easily as breathing, because he was just that damn nice.

“So… you’re Hard Harry?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah.” With that, he exhaled, feeling like he’d been holding the breath in since the start of this friendship. Mazz knew, and things would fall apart or not, and there was nothing Mark could do about it now.

“And… you’ve been Hard Harry this whole time?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow…”

Mark just nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a very long silence, something that had never happened when Mark was with Mazz.

“That’s amazing,” Mazz finally said, and Mark looked up, surprised and confused. Mazz was beaming. “I can’t believe I’ve been friends with Hard Harry, THE Hard Harry all this time, and I never guessed! This is awesome!”

Still reeling, Mark watched Mazz, looking for a lie in his face. “Seriously?”

“Fuck yeah, man! This is amazing! Now I can watch the crowd for you and tell you what people think of the broadcast!” Mazz was practically dancing around the cramped room in his excitement.

Mark laughed, relief and happiness making him giddy as he watched his friend.

“Wait,” Mazz stopped and looked back at Mark. “The crowd! You have to get back on air!”

“Oh, Shit!” Mark went back to his desk and threw himself onto the chair, readying the set and poising one hand over the switch to go back to talking. Before he flipped it, he turned to Mazz with a smile. “So, do you want to watch?”

Mazz smiled back. “Hell yes.”


End file.
